


The Collar

by house_of_lantis



Series: Neckz-N-Throats Magazine Stories [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Neckz 'n' Throats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:51:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wasn’t doing it again. Once was justifiable, because he was just exploring his options, satisfying his curiosity. Twice was acceptable, because he needed the money to fix his jeep. But there wasn’t going to be a third time. No way. He wasn’t going to do soft-core porn for the werewolf set again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Collar

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is a Sterek fic that I wrote (for kink bingo squares: collars; pictures). I wanted to mention that it plays in the Neckz-n-Throats verse and really appreciate being able to join in the fun.

Stiles wasn’t doing it again.

Once was justifiable, because he was just exploring his options, satisfying his curiosity. Twice was acceptable, because he needed the money to fix his jeep. But there wasn’t going to be a third time. No way. He wasn’t going to do soft-core porn for the werewolf set again. He was in his last year at NYU, he was double majoring in Criminology and Forensic Investigation, and he couldn’t afford to tarnish his reputation if he wanted a job that required a security clearance or a background check. 

He wasn’t going to do it again. Seriously, there was no way.

 

Posing suggestively so that werewolves could get off to his pictures, it was just too weird. After that first time, he never saw the pictures that they took; it made him feel so uncomfortable and exposed to see himself like that. He’d come back to his crappy city dorm apartment and stared at himself in the bathroom, tilting his head and arching his neck, and he just couldn’t see what the big deal was all about. He knew werewolves had a thing about necks; some kind of predatory instinct hungering to have someone’s submission. He stared at his reflection and wondered what the werewolves saw: prey, victim, _toy_.

Back in high school, his best friend, Scott, who was Bitten during their sophomore year by a rogue Alpha, tried to explain it to Stiles but all he got out of that awkward conversation was that Scott didn’t know how to talk about his new werewolf sex instincts, so Stiles just let it go. Scott once admitted that Stiles “smelled really good, like I—I have this weird urge to lick your neck and maybe hunt down a rabbit for you, okay” and like all good bros, they just left it at that. He was glad that there was no way a werewolf could scent him through the pages of the magazine; he was always a little paranoid about being recognized on campus.

But good intentions paved the road to Hell, wasn’t that how the saying went? His dad would say that once was an accident, twice was coincidence, three times was a pattern.

He stared at his online bank account and saw that he had about $42 to his name and he felt bad asking his dad for money every time he ran short. He knew his dad would cover him, but Stiles was 21-years old now, he shouldn’t have to ask his dad for money. He sighed, logging off from the website, and leaned back in his chair. He picked up his phone and thumbed through the text messages. He had 19 texts from Peter Hale, the creative director of Neckz-N-Throats Magazine, all of them inviting Stiles to return for another magazine spread.

_Tasteful partial nudes._

_Due to your popularity, we can negotiate a much larger fee and offer you royalty percentages._

_Your choice of photographers._

_Would love to have you back, Stiles. The feedback and fan messages we’ve received on your previous two photo shoots was incredibly unexpected and utterly delightful._

_Contract you for four special edition issues, including our bestselling February Valentine’s Day issue._

With just $42 to his name, there was no way that Stiles was going to be able to last out the week. He was going to go into negative numbers and if went to his dad then, Stiles would only feel worse about what a complete loser he was.

He sighed, tapping the corner of his phone against his thigh. If they wanted him back, then they were going to pay. They were going to have to pay him enough that Stiles could finish out the next four months of school to graduation. He didn’t even know why they wanted him so much. He knew he was good looking in that boy-next-door kind of way, kind of average with brown hair and brown eyes, he had weird moles everywhere, he wasn’t very built, probably a bit too thin, and he looked…but he looked like he was totally submissive.

 _Whatever the loving fuck._ Fine. He’d pose for them, one last time, get his money, and then he was done with all of it.

***

Three days later, he was back in the magazine’s midtown offices on Madison Avenue, sitting across from Peter Hale, who was the epitome of California laid back handsome and New York style, with intense blue eyes, and a nicely trimmed goatee. All the Hales were Alpha werewolves, which Stiles thought was kind of odd, but then again, what did he really know about werewolves?

Peter kept looking at Stiles in such an unconcealed manner that made him want to put on a floor-length poncho over his faded red _Beacon Hills High School Lacrosse_ hoodie. The Hales were all Born werewolves and they pretty much owned the whole werewolf sex industry in the United States with bi-coastal headquarters in Los Angeles and New York City. 

Stiles met Peter’s steady gaze, not backing down. “I need a cash advance. I put gas in my jeep and after I pay for parking in the garage, I’m going to be down to $1.23 in my bank account.”

He watched as Peter smiled, reaching into his jacket inner pocket to pull out a long wallet. He flipped it open and pulled out several bills, sliding them across his desk towards Stiles.

“That’s five hundred dollars, man,” Stiles said, counting the hundreds and fifties in his hand.

Peter cocked his head slightly. “We’ll pay you an additional $7,000 for your photo shoot.”

“I’m not letting anyone take a picture of my dick,” he told Peter, folding the bills carefully and shoving them into the front pocket of his jeans. He noticed that Peter watched him as he raised his hips off the chair, his hands struggling to push the cash into the tight pocket.

The werewolf’s nostrils flared and he inhaled deeply, slowly moving his eyes up the front of Stiles’s body to meet his annoyed gaze. Peter smiled again, putting his hands on top of his glass desk. “Of course. We respect that you have limits; I’ll make sure to include that in our contract.”

“And I want Laura to be the photographer at my session. I like her. She’s funny and she makes me feel safe.”

Peter nodded. “Laura will be available. She enjoys working with you a great deal.”

“Okay,” he said, feeling his palms sweat. “Yeah, okay.” He gave a final nod and looked at Peter. “This is the last time I do this, though. So you have to stop texting me all the time. It’s really kind of creepy.”

“I apologize for my exuberance,” he said, smiling to himself. “You have to understand, Stiles, that you are unique to our world.”

 _Our world_ being the werewolf world, Stiles knew.

“Not only are you beautiful, you show strength and express vulnerability in a way that is quite alluring, for an Alpha to the lowliest Omega. That kind of chemistry is nearly impossible to duplicate and the readership of the magazine has grown tenfold since your last series. Is there anything that I can do or say to convince you to stay with NNT for multiple projects?”

Stiles rolled his eyes and ducked his head, scratching his neck. “No, dude, come on—“

“Don’t do that,” Peter said, sharply.

Stiles froze and dropped his hand. “What?”

“Don’t damage your skin,” he said, smiling apologetically. “Anyway, how about Saturday afternoon? Around two? Laura will meet you on the 3rd floor in studio 3B. We’ll block out a two hour session.”

“Okay,” he said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Just—I don’t want like fifty people there watching me, okay? Just Laura and—and her assistant and a make-up person or something. I’m going to be kind of naked, it’s not like there needs to be a lot of people hanging around.”

Peter inclined his head in agreement. “As you wish, Stiles. I’ll have my assistant draw up the contract and have it couriered to you tomorrow. You can sign it and all of the release forms and bring it with you on Saturday.”

He stood up to go, nodding his head at Peter.

“One more thing, if you would indulge me.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll add an additional $3,000 to your fee if you’d wear a collar. Around your neck.”

Stiles licked his lips and made a face, considering it. They’d pay him $10,000 for two hours of work. And all he’d show was his ass and some skin while wearing a collar. Peter watched him, expectantly, his face carefully neutral as he waited for Stiles to make a decision.

He sighed and nodded, looking away. “Okay, that’s fine, but—but keep it classy, okay? I don’t want something that’s going to have some weird metal spikes or say ‘doggy’ or something.”

Peter laughed, uproariously, leaning back in his chair, giving Stiles a fond look. He didn’t think it was that funny, but Stiles could appreciate when someone liked his sense of humor.

“It’s always so good to see you, Stiles.”

*****

Stiles made his way to studio 3B and opened the door, walking into the large, brightly lit room. He heard something jazzy playing on the speakers – Michael Buble – and Stiles closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath to ground his nerves.

 _That was one huge mother-loving bed,_ he thought, squinting slightly from the bright lights.

He walked up to the set, wide-eyed and jittery, as he stared at the low platform bed with white sheets, white pillows, and fluffy white covers.

Stiles sighed internally, _that was definitely a bed for porn._

They had put up the white backdrop behind the bed, light panels set up all around. He gulped; there was no place to hide. It would just be him, stark naked and wearing a collar, against all that white. This was an intimate photo shoot and he should’ve known it would escalate like this since he told Peter it was the last one he’d do.

The first shoot was so innocent in comparison – and how naïve was Stiles back then. He hadn’t really understood what he was selling; he thought he was going for being cool or hip, but instead the magazine had run with a picture of his looking into the camera, his expression unreadable. His neck was in clear view, chin slightly tilted back. His hair was buzzed short at the time so he looked even more like a kid, boy-Lolita inspired. The photographer was a really cool Beta werewolf named Boyd. He had a soft voice and wasn’t overly friendly, but he was easy to work with. At the end of the session, Boyd showed Stiles the pictures he was going to submit to the photo spread and Stiles realized that he wasn’t supposed to be cool or hip. He was supposed to be _available_.

It was during the second photo shoot that he met Laura Hale and it involved standing in a locker room shower fully dressed while getting soaked with cold water because using hot water would’ve steamed up the cameras. Stiles felt like a total dork and it was only due to Laura’s quirky sense of humor and their new camaraderie that they were able to get through the session with their dignity intact. _Fucking Peter Hale and his boys’ locker room kink,_ they had both complained bitterly during the shoot. It was why he wanted to do this last shoot with her. She wouldn’t let him feel like the total dork he knew he was; she sincerely believed he could do this and it gave him enough confidence to get through it.

“Stiles! I’m so glad to see you,” Laura called, handing her camera to the tall, lanky young man with curly blond hair, and walking excitedly towards him. The petite werewolf gave him a big hug – she really was stronger than she looked – and Stiles laughed against her head, hugging her right back.

“Hi, Laura.”

She was a couple of inches shorter than him, with long brown hair that she pulled into a ponytail, and dressed casually in jeans and a white tee-shirt. She was barefoot, her toenails polished a metallic gray. For some reason, seeing her naked feet made him feel a little less tense, and he exhaled deeply, trying to still the butterflies in his stomach. He had nearly changed his mind and turned around at least three times on the way to the studio.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said, smiling at him. “You know I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, right?”

He rolled his eyes. He trusted her. “I know, I know…it’s just that…I feel like…”

_A whore._

_A slut._

_A sleazebag._

_A sellout._

He cleared his throat and reached into his backpack to pull out the signed contract and release forms, handing it off to her. “I signed everything.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking them and handing them to Isaac. “So, it’s been six months since I saw you. You look good! You’ve been working out, haven’t you? And did you get taller? You let your hair grow out, I like it, it’s all poofy and thick. Erica will probably give you sexy bed hair to go with our _boudoir_ theme.” She rolled her eyes. “Peter’s idea, of course.”

“Figures.” Stiles ran his hand through his hair, grabbing at the tufts. “Yeah, I thought it was time to stop looking like jailbait.”

She smirked. “You’ll always look like jailbait. Come on, I’ll introduce you to my crew. There’s only three of us today – Isaac, my assistant; and you remember Erica. She’ll be doing your make up again.”

Stiles shook hands with the taller werewolf who gave him a shy grin and he turned to hug the ebullient Erica.

“Thanks for making it a closed set.”

“Why don’t you go with Erica to make up and get started?” Laura said, shooing him away.

“I promise this won’t hurt at all,” Erica said, taking his hand and pulling him to her make up table. He sat down and she looked at his reflection, smiling at him over his shoulder. “I’m just going to clean up your eyebrows a little bit, put some mascara on your eyelashes for definition.” She walked in front of him and looked at his face. “I’m so jealous, Stiles, you hardly need any cover up on your face.”

He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Your dressing room is ready. I left a robe in there for you,” she said, putting on her professional face. “So go strip down to your birthday suit and let me take a look to see if I need to do any additional trimming.”

Stiles hefted his backpack and walked into the small room. It was a nice sized room, a comfy looking couch, a make-up table with a dozen lights around the wall mirror, a full length mirror by the door, a clothes rack that held a large blue terrycloth robe.

 _So this was it, show time._ He got out of his clothes and gave himself a quick onceover in the full length mirror and grabbed the robe from the hanger, putting it on. He walked back out to see Erica leaning on the counter, chatting with Isaac. Stiles smiled, it looked a lot like flirting to him, and he made his way towards them, his hands shaking and fidgety.

“Isaac, give us a minute, will you?” Erica said, politely.

“Sure,” he said, smiling at Stiles. “It’ll be great, don’t worry about a thing.”

“Thanks, man,” Stiles said, taking a deep breath. He looked at Erica, gripping the towel in his hand. “So, uh, you just want me to, uh, drop the robe?”

“Let me get my trimmer,” she said, picking up the narrow, portable trimmer from the counter. “Okay, I’m ready when you are.”

Stiles opened the robe and let her look at him, her professional eyes moving critically down the length of his body.

“I’m just going to trim the hair going into your pubes, okay?” She said, turning on the trimmer and gently putting her hand on his hip as she dragged the razor carefully along his treasure trail, taking off the excess hairs. “Not bad; I like a man who keeps himself tidy.” She winked at him and stood up. “Could I see the back, please?”

Stiles laughed and rolled his eyes, turning so she could look at his smooth ass. “I got waxed a week ago.”

“Hmm…I approve,” she said, nodding at him. “Sit down on the chair and I’ll just do a little bit on your face.”

“Cool.”

Erica picked up something and grinned at Stiles. “Can’t forget about this.”

He looked at the black collar. It wasn’t too thick, maybe about an inch wide, and it was simple. There was a silver clasp in the front with a little red heart dangling from the closure. He rolled his eyes and lifted his chin for Erica to put it on him.

She sighed a little as she pulled it closed around the back of his neck, her fingers petting him gently. “It looks amazing on you, Stiles.”

“Thanks.”

“Not too tight?” She said, putting her fingers under the collar.

“It’s fine,” he said, moving his neck around. It felt weird, but it wasn’t constricting. It felt light around his neck, like he could wear it if he were going to punk night at the Student Union.

“Let’s get start,” Erica said, giving him a wide smile.

Fifteen minutes later, he was trimmed and brushed, and sitting on the bed, naked, the covers tucked around him. He started shivering, even though the lights were warm, and he could feel the back of his neck sweating under the collar.

Laura walked over to him and sat down on the edge of the bed, her camera in her hand. “So how’s school? You’re going to graduate this summer, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said, smoothing down the sheets over his knees. “I’ve been sending out resumes like crazy; my dad thinks I should just go right to grad school and get my Masters, but I kind of want to work first, maybe for a year or two, intern at a security company or something.”

“We have a lot of contacts in the industry—“

Stiles shook his head. “I don’t think I want to work for a porn company.”

She rolled her eyes and smacked his knee with her hand. “Stiles, we’re not a porn company. The magazine and all of our affiliate companies have a huge web presence; we could always improve our security features. I’m sure we’d love to have you work for us at the corporate offices.”

“Oh. Sorry,” he said, grinning a little. “Yeah, I’ll look into it.”

She snapped a picture, the shutter clicking, and Stiles looked at her, making a face. “Just warming up. Do you feel ready to take some prelim shots to get loosened up?”

“All right.”

“Isaac is going to help out, rearrange the sheets and pose you, is that okay?”

He looked up to see Isaac giving him an encouraging smile. “Sure, that’s cool.”

For the next hour, Stiles moved through a number of different poses, looking at the camera, looking away from the camera, tilting his chin, closing his eyes, arching his back, moving around on the bed, the sheets barely covering his dick.

Laura called out a number of directions, sinking into her professional role, telling Isaac to move Stiles’s arm up, pull down the sheets just a little more, and walking around the bed looking for the perfect shot. Isaac spritzed his back with oil to make him look like he was sweating as Laura told Stiles to spread his legs apart a little more, slide his right leg up, Isaac cover the back of his thighs with the covers, the constant _click click click_ of the shutter was hypnotic.

Stiles knew he was starting to loosen up, his initial nervousness and tense muscles easing with every pose he moved into, looking sleepily up at the camera, looking away to watch Isaac fiddling with the lights or Erica sitting at the make-up counter, smiling as she texted on her cell phone.

“Okay, these are really good shots,” Laura said, kneeling beside Stiles and taking a deep breath. “Want to try some sexier poses?”

Stiles snorted, rolling his eyes. “You mean these weren’t sexy to begin with? How many pictures did you take of my ass?”

Isaac laughed, shaking his head. “For what it’s worth, you looked really good.”

“They were good, but you know you can do better,” she said, petting Stiles’s head, fluffing it up a little more with her fingers. “Come on, go for broke, it’s your last session with us, make it count.”

He giggled and sighed, feeling free and at ease for the first time since he stepped into the studio. It was odd how Laura could make Stiles feel so comfortable in his own skin. Even when he was alone and naked, he never felt quite like this – sexy, brazen, confident. “All right, what _sexy_ pose do you want me to do, you madwoman?”

“Get up on your knees and bend down, all the way, so your cute little tush is in the air,” she said, checking her camera. “Like child’s pose in yoga but with your hips up.”

Stiles, less shy now about Laura and Isaac seeing him naked, crawled out from under the sheets and got into position in the center of the bed. “This is kind of embarrassing.”

“Isaac, bunch up the sheets over Stiles’s lap to cover everything,” she ordered, stepping back to the end of the bed.

Isaac did something with the bed sheets and covers, plumping them up and tucking them in Stiles’s lap so it would hide his dick, but left him otherwise exposed.

“Don’t even think about walking behind me,” Stiles joked, smirking up at Isaac.

“Your ass is really cute, Stiles, but you’re the wrong gender for me,” he said, teasingly. “There, you comfy?”

“As comfy as I’m going to be in the doggy position, but thank you, Isaac, you’re a real gentleman.”

“Stiles, get all the way down on your chest, stretch out your arms to the edge of the bed, and turn your head a little – right there, that’s perfect. Look at me over your shoulder – yes, that’s it,” she said, snapping more pictures. “Okay, look up at me, but don’t move your head, keep your neck arched so that the collar – Isaac, fix his collar so that the clasp is at the center of his neck.”

Isaac adjusted the collar. “Good?”

“Yep.”

“Dig your toes into the bed,” Laura said, moving to the side of the bed to take more shots as Stiles flexed and moved his toes, shoving them hard into the mattress.

Stiles trusted her not to cross any lines; he knew she wouldn’t take a picture of him like this from behind. It was one thing to take a picture of his ass; it was something else to take a picture of his ass hole. That was _not_ in the contract.  

“Move your left arm down and tuck it behind your back,” she said, quietly. “Is that uncomfortable for you to hold for a few minutes?”

He did as she asked, curling his fingers a little as the back of his hand rested at his lower back. “It’s all right, I can hold this pose for a bit.”

“Isaac, can you adjust his fingers, curl them up a little.”

Stiles closed his eyes, moving his head this way and that, moving his right arm behind his back to join the other. He balanced on his forehead, letting Laura take a variety of shots of him from different angles. He was getting a little tired, his muscles straining.

“Hey, Laura?”

“Hmmm?”

“Can we take a break after this?”

“Of course, Stiles, let me just finish this series.”

“Sure,” he said, taking a deep breath, trying to relax his muscles and just fall into the pose. It wasn’t that different from doing yoga and honestly, it probably would be more comfortable if someone held his wrists back or cuffed him or something, so that he could let his shoulders drop and—

The sound of the door opening and closing, deep footsteps coming into the room, made Stiles’s heartbeat jack up a notch. Laura stopped filming and stood up quickly, Isaac moved to stand by the bed, both of them taking up protective positions having heard his heartbeat speed up.

“Oh, Derek, it’s just you,” Laura complained, sighing.

Isaac hurried to get Stiles’s robe, helping him sit up, and covering him with it quickly. He gave Stiles a pat on his shoulder and moved to take the camera from Laura, taking the SD chip out to save the latest pictures on to the desktop Mac. Stiles pulled the robe on and tied it at his waist, looking up to see Derek Hale staring at him.

Derek Hale, Laura’s younger brother, was the senior editor of Neckz-N-Throats Magazine and boss of everyone who worked for the company. He was dressed casually in jeans, a jacket, and a Henley. His hair was dark, his 5 o’clock shadow made his jawline look hard and formidable, and his eyes didn’t miss a thing as he looked over Stiles with a grumpy scowl.

Regardless, Derek Hale was super hot, and if the tabloids were to be believed, super unattainable, and Stiles bit his tongue, chanting _do not get hard, do not get hard, do not get hard._

“What are you doing here? I’m in the middle of a private, closed room session.” Laura said, looking up at her younger brother.

Derek crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised his eyebrow, looking at Stiles. “I came to see who Peter paid $10,000 to model for the magazine.”

*****

Laura chuckled. “Ohhh, you’ve never met him, have you? You’ve only seen him on the glossy pages of the magazine.” She turned to Stiles and wiggled her eyebrows. “Derek is your biggest fan.”

“Shut up, Laura.” Derek said, his tone reminiscent of beleaguered younger brothers everywhere. That kind of made Stiles smile and he met Derek’s hazel eyes to show the man some compassion. Stiles was an only child, but he could imagine Laura teasing the hell out of Derek all his life.

“This is Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is my kid brother, Derek.”

Stiles move up to his knees and got off the bed, holding out his hand. “Hey, man, nice to meet you.”

Derek stared at his hand for a long moment and finally reached out to shake it. His hand was large and strong, very warm, and smooth. “Your name is _Stiles_ Stilinski? Really.”

“It’s a nickname. My first name is kind of hard to—“

He dropped Stiles’s hand like he didn’t want to touch him and turned to Laura, “why the hell is Peter paying him that much money?”

“Because he’s worth every single cent? Why the hell do you think?” Laura grabbed Derek’s jacket and physically tugged him to the desktop. “I’ll show you.”

Stiles rubbed his hands over his hair and exhaled slowly, feeling like an idiot. He wandered towards Erica and sat down in the make-up chair, staring at his reflection. Of course an Alpha werewolf like Derek Hale wouldn’t see what was so great about Stiles Stilinski. And there were great things! Really great things about Stiles!

“Here, have some water,” she said, handing him a bottle.

“Thanks,” he said, opening the cap and taking a long gulp. He sighed, sitting back on the chair with his eyes closed as Erica dabbed away some of the sweat and oil with a make-up remover cloth. Stiles sighed in pleasure at the coolness of the cloth. “That feels good.”

“I saw you checking him out,” she whispered into his ear.

Stiles made a face and shrugged, looking over to see Derek scowling even harder as he and Laura looked at the computer screen. Laura was pointing to something and looking at Derek, his lips pressed in a thin line, eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head. Laura punched Derek in the arm, but it didn’t leave an impression on the other Alpha werewolf. Instead, he ducked his head closer to Laura and said something to her and she tossed back her head, laughing. Actually, she was cackling. Derek frowned again and shook his head in exasperation.  

_Why the hell did he look so pissed off?_

Stiles was trying to do a good job here. And okay, fine, maybe this was soft-core porn but Stiles had some pride; he wanted to look good so he wouldn’t embarrass himself when the issue came out. He wanted the magazine to get what they wanted from him because they were paying him so much money. It was a fair exchange; and Stiles wasn’t going to punk out on his obligations.

“Does he always look like such a _sourwolf_ all the time?” Stiles whispered back, rolling his eyes.

Derek’s head snapped up and he turned, glaring over at Stiles.

“Ohhh crap, he heard me, didn’t he?” Stiles said to Erica, ducking down in his seat and kind of hiding behind her.

Laura smirked at Stiles over her shoulder and then reached up to grab Derek’s chin, turning his face away from Stiles and back to the screen.

Erica giggled, patting his arm. “Don’t worry, rumor has it that his bite is worse than his bark.”

He nodded along and then made a confused face. “Isn’t that the other way around?”

“Not for Derek Hale.”

Stiles drank more water and looked away from Derek, trying to calm his heartbeat back to a pace where it didn’t feel like it wanted to escape out of his body like a chestburster from the _Alien_ movies. He kept looking at Derek from the corner of his eye, tying and untying the ends of his robe sash, his foot tapping on the foot hold on the canvas chair. He hoped to God that Derek wasn’t planning to stick around and _watch_ him. That would just be too much. There was no way that Stiles was going to be able to put himself through the sexy poses with Derek Hale watching and…and scrutinizing his every move. He wasn’t going to be able to hide his hard on or that he was going to smell like sex and arousal and…he rolled his eyes, shaking his head and tapping the water bottle against his forehead.

_Derek freaking Hale._

__  


Everyone in New York City knew Derek Hale. He rose up the ranks of the family publishing empire and started _Neckz-N-Throats_ when he was a freshman college; he made porn for werewolves mainstream by inviting human celebrities to grace the covers, showing off their long beautiful necks and their long slender limbs. It seemed like everyone famous – or anyone who desired to be famous – wanted to be  photographed in _Neckz-N-Throats Magazine_. The first celebrity to grace the cover was a pregnant Angelina Jolie, standing against a black wall, holding up a black lace shaw, her naked rounded belly a thing of beauty, and that first issue started everything. Over the years, the magazine took on a more serious tone, focusing on articles about werewolf politics, culture, humor, and sexuality; and then it expanded into soft-core porn, highlighting necks and backs and asses – whatever – for a werewolf’s viewing pleasure.  

Now, at the age of 28, Derek was considered the Anna Wintour of Hale Publishing – from his cold, unreadable face to his odd sense of hit-or-miss fashion. _The Werewolf Wore Prada…and Sometimes Weird Cut-offs._ Anna Wintour was iconic for her dark round sunglasses; Derek Hale was iconic for his no no-nonsense eyebrows of death. He led what looked like a very glamorous playboy Alpha werewolf life, often seen about town with a pretty young thing, mostly blondes, on his arm.

Okay, Stiles might have followed the _New York Post_ a little too religiously, reading everything that the tabloid published about Derek Hale.

“Stiles! Ready for more?” Laura called, checking her camera.

“Ohhh, you bet,” he said, sliding out of his chair and walking back towards the rumpled bed.

“Derek refuses to leave the session,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Do you mind if he stays? I promise that if he starts to distract you, I’ll kick him out of the studio.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Derek drawled, narrowing his eyes at Laura. He turned to glance at Stiles. “I’m here to make sure that the magazine gets what it paid for.”

Stiles scowled and took a step towards him. “For your information, this is my last gig for the magazine, so don’t worry, I’m going to do my job. You’ll get your money’s worth, _Mr. Hale_.”

He watched as Derek’s nostrils flared and Stiles stood his ground, meeting the werewolf’s eyes, long, steady and direct. He was probably asking for it, challenging a werewolf like this – an Alpha werewolf at that – but he wasn’t going to let Derek Hale or anyone else think he wasn’t worth it. He might only be an average human, but he was worth something.

Laura giggled, taking Stiles by the arm and gently but firmly leading him away. “You probably don’t want to do that, Stiles. Derek has…control issues.”

“Laura!” Derek shouted, his expression turning pouty more than angry.

She smirked, patting Stiles on the back. “See what I’ve had to deal with all my life? Come on, let’s get started. Just ignore him. Derek’s harmless. You’ve been doing awesome; I’ve got more than enough shots to fill an entire issue.”

“Okay, sorry,” he mumbled, sitting down at the edge of the bed, trying not to look at Derek.

“Isaac, put on some fun music, will you?” She called, taking the camera strap from around her neck and shaking her hips to the music when something bouncy and infectious by Katy Perry came on. “Come on, Stiles! Energy! Let’s go!”

Stiles laughed, shucking off the robe and tossing it away from the set. He picked up the sheets and wrapped them around his shoulders, jumping up and down, laughing and dancing, flailing his arms and shaking his hips as Laura bounced around the set, taking pictures of him. He couldn’t help himself, he glanced at Derek, only to see him standing off to the side, arms crossed, looking extremely put out.

 _Fuck it; fuck him; fuck Derek “I’m the Alpha” Hale._ Stiles was going to have a good time. He loved hanging out with Laura and she made this feel like it was fun, not just work.

“Okay, stand right there, and let the sheets fall off your shoulders, let it drape down to just the top of your butt,” Laura said, getting down to business.

“Sorry, have to catch my breath,” he said, panting through his mouth.

“No, no, I like it, keep breathing with your mouth open, just like that. Look at me over your right shoulder, duck your chin down and—yes, that’s gorgeous. Keep your eyes down, just lowered slightly so I can see your eyelashes—okay, I love that one. Let the sheets drop all the way down so you can show off more of your butt.”

Stiles licked his lips nervously, but dropped the sheets so that he was holding on to the corners in front of his groin. Laura walked behind him and took some more pictures.

“Flex your back a little…a little more, yeah,” she said in hushed tones, moving closer to him. “Drop your shoulders back. Duck your head. Show me your collar…that’s good, that’s _so_ good. Now look at me.” She took some more pictures and Stiles licked his lips, swallowing, feeling the vibe change in the room. He looked into the camera and heard the click of the shutter go off, over and over again, and when Laura moved, he followed her with his eyes…and saw Derek watching him, staring at him, his eyes moving hotly up and down his body.

Stiles blushed, feeling his face and ears flushing with blood. He felt a low buzz of pleasure in his belly, his cock getting more than just a little interested in the way that Derek was looking at him. He moved his gaze down, subtle, submissive, teasing, and heard Derek inhale sharply, taking a step towards him and stopping short, his hands in fists. He didn’t look up at Derek; afraid and turned on by what he’d see. Instead, Laura turned to look at Derek and then looked back at Stiles, a knowing grin on her lips.

“Yeah, that’s good, Stiles, that’s a good boy,” Laura murmured, taking another series of pictures. “Get on your knees.”

 _Get on your knees._ How did such a simple request sound so dirty?

He bit his bottom lip and sank to his knees, trying to be as graceful as possible. He shifted the sheets so that they were bunched up in his hands and covering his growing hardness. There was no doubt that every single werewolf in the studio smelled him now; could hear the thumping of his heart as it picked up and raced a little faster, not from fear but from excitement.

“Arch your back for me,” she said, coming closer. “Move your head back all the way, yes, that’s very good, just drop your shoulders and let your arms go loose. You don’t have to hold the sheets, I promise I won’t take any pictures of you below the waist.”

Stiles closed his eyes; he trusted her. He let go of the sheets, feeling them slide down to his knees, leaving him naked and open to everyone’s view. He moved his hands behind him and clenched them into fists, bracing his weight on them as he leaned back, feeling the burn of the stretch in his upper thighs. He could feel his cock hardening even more, pre-come dribbling from the tip onto his stomach.

“God, Stiles, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Laura whispered, her camera shutter clicking so fast that she must be just holding the button down. “So perfect, just like this; perfect for any werewolf. Perfect for an _Alpha_.”

Stiles flinched a little, biting his bottom lip so that he wouldn’t moan.

“Do you want to keep going?” She said, kneeling on the floor beside him.

He opened his eyes and turned to look at her, seeing her hazel eyes flare quickly and fade away Alpha red eyes. He took a deep breath and looked up to see Derek staring at him, his eyes red and nearly glowing, jaw clenched tight. He hadn’t moved, tall and magnificent and…hard. Stiles could make out the thick bulge under his tight jeans. Derek Hale was hard for him.

“Yeah,” he said, looking at Laura. “What do you – want me to do next?”

“Whatever you want. It’s your show.”

He slid down the bed to his side, curling his left arm under his head as a pillow, covering his lower body with the sheets. He closed his eyes and licked his lips, slipping his hand under the sheets to curl his hand around his cock, holding himself loosely as he thought about what he was going to do. Was he really going to do this? Could he do this?

He moaned softly, tightening his hold on his cock, stroking slowly. He rubbed the palm of his hand over the head, smearing the pre-come on his skin, and stroked himself leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. Like he wasn’t putting on a show for Derek Hale.

“Jesus,” Laura whispered, kneeling on the bed and taking picture after picture. “Keep going.”

His hand was so dry, so he pulled it up to his mouth and licked his palm, tasting himself, bitter and strong, getting his fingers as wet and juicy as possible. Usually, Stiles liked using a lot of lube when he jerked off, so he used as much spit as he could make in his dry mouth, slipping his hand down to curl around the head.

“Fuck,” he groaned, moving his hips as he slowly fucked his hand. It really wasn’t going to take him very long, his cheeks and ears burning, knowing that _Derek_ was watching him and getting off on _him_. He turned so that the sheets fell off his hips, baring his ass to everyone, as he buried his hand into the mattress, his hips moving rhythmically, driving his leaking cock into the tunnel of his fist.

He pressed his face into the bedding, stifling the noisy moans coming out of his mouth. He was pretty loud and he was only just a little embarrassed by the sounds that he made. His head moved off his arm and his legs parted, toes curling and the tops of his feet digging into the mattress, the squelching sound of his cock and palm slip-sliding loud in his ears, his heartbeat erratic and a drum beat in his veins, and he grabbed hold of the back of the collar in a fist, jerking it hard enough to cut off his air as he whimpered, coming in his hand, coming _so hard_ , so much come drenching the sheets under him.

Stiles shuddered breathlessly, his body twitching and he let go of the collar, sucking in air noisily, coughing a little bit. He let go of his cock, his hand covered in his come, and he sighed, laughing a little to himself.

_Yep. If that wasn’t porn for werewolves, he didn’t know what was._

The sound of something dropping and clattering on the floor made Stiles raise his head, looking around blearily for the source. He saw Isaac struggling to right a fallen light stand, his face horribly red as everyone turned to look at him.

“Isaac, what the hell?” Laura complained, going over to him to help him. “That’s coming out of your paycheck – or your ass!”

“Um. Sorry.” Isaac gave a little apologetic wave with his hand.

Stiles laughed. He laughed so hard. He couldn’t help it. It was hilarious – okay, it probably wasn’t _that_ hilarious, but he really was glad for the tension breaker and he wasn’t sure if Isaac did it on purpose or not, but he was grateful for the chance to just let go.

“Ohmygod, that was great,” Stiles said, giggling. He buried his face in the sheets, his entire body shaking with laughter. “Isaac, man, I seriously love you.”

His giggles died down to soft chuckles when he finally dared to look up at Derek.

Derek’s eyes weren’t Alpha red anymore, but he was still looking at Stiles. He walked closer towards him, picking up the blue robe from the floor. Stiles watched him approach, all long legs and confident stride, like a wolf hunting its prey. Stiles waited to see what Derek would do next. He thought Derek would hand him the robe, but he didn’t.

“Rude much?” Stiles said, nodding his head for the robe.

Derek raised his eyebrows, his full lips twitching slightly into a smirk. He held up the robe in his hand, not anywhere close enough for Stiles to take it.

 _Oh, he wanted to play._ Well, Stiles just jerked off in front of Derek, Derek’s sister, and two Beta werewolves. They’d all seen him naked – hell, they _watched_ him come. Getting out of bed naked covered in his own spunk didn’t even register on the _Stiles Stilinski Embarrassment Radar_.

Stiles kicked the sheets off his legs and turned on his back, wiping the come on his hand across his stomach, grinning up at Derek.

“You little shit,” Derek whispered to him.

He laughed and got off the bed, walking towards Derek. He knew that the werewolf would be able to smell him up close and personal, see the drying come on his skin. Stiles felt unbelievably sexy and powerful in that moment. He smiled at Derek, wide and happy, and then stepped past him to walk across the studio to the dressing room.

“I don’t need the robe anymore, thanks,” he said, looking at Derek over his shoulder. He reached down and gave his ass cheek a little scratch, knowing that Derek was probably eyeing him the whole time.

Erica was laughing so hard, she had tears coming out of her eyes. Stiles winked at her and she blew him a kiss.

He opened the door to the dressing room and turned, looking at Derek, who was still standing there holding up the robe. Stiles started laughing again. _This was his life, right?_

Stiles wasn’t a werewolf and he didn’t know much about them; but the one thing he had learned from working as a soft-core porn model was that Alpha werewolves could not resist a challenge. He cocked his hip and leaned against the frame of the doorway to the dressing, raising his eyebrow at Derek.

_Well, come and get it, big bad wolf._

The Alpha blinked, his mouth dropping open slightly.

Stiles gave him a coy smile and laughed, closing the door. He’d give Derek 30 seconds to join him.

**The End.**

 

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading! Yes, I will write a naughty timestamp to go with this story about what happened when Derek joined Stiles in that dressing room. Whoohoo!


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